


Surprising Draco

by Alisanne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance, Slytherins Being Slytherins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-16 22:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7287928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/pseuds/Alisanne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco's a hard man to plan a party for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surprising Draco

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** Written for HD_fluff's prompt #125: Birthday Surprise, for Enchanted_Jae's prompt #124: Surprise.
> 
> **Beta(s):** Sevfan and Emynn.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.

~

Surprising Draco

~

“What do you mean Draco doesn’t want a surprise birthday party?” Parkinson’s tone was low and dangerous. 

Harry shrugged. “I figured we should find out how he felt about them before planning one. He told me in no uncertain terms that he hates them, and I quote, ‘will have my bits for garters’ if I plan one for him.” Harry smiled tightly. “Since I like my bits just where they are, thank you very much, no party.” 

“Oh for—” Parkinson’s mouth worked for a moment. “You weren’t supposed to come right out and ask him, you berk! Of course he’d say no.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Okay. So if I wasn’t supposed to ask, how was I supposed to find out if he wanted one or not?” 

“You were supposed to just help me plan the damned thing and not question!” Parkinson’s voice began to take on a shrill quality. 

“I guess if you want to go ahead and plan something you can,” Harry said doubtfully. “But count me out.” 

“Ugh!” Rolling her eyes, Parkinson moved away from his desk. “Now I’m going to have to be even more devious about this, thanks a lot, Potter.” 

Harry hummed. “I thought you lot liked being devious,” he offered blandly. 

She gave him a flat look. “And what would you know about being Slytherin?” she snapped. “Just because you’re sleeping with one of us you think that gives you insight?” 

“Actually, I almost ended up—” Harry paused, shaking his head. “Never mind. You’re right, I don’t understand.” 

“Exactly!” Parkinson huffed. “Fine, I guess I’ll just have to think of something else to do for Draco’s birthday.” 

“Great. Let me know if I can help,” he said. 

“Don’t do me any favours.” Harry laughed as Parkinson held up two fingers on her way out of his office. 

When he got home, Draco was already there. “How was your day?” Draco asked. 

“Oh, the usual.” Harry grinned. “Although I did save you from the surprise birthday party Parkinson was planning for you.” 

Draco froze. “You what?” 

“I saved you.” Harry beamed. “Parkinson was planning a surprise party, but once I told her that you hated the idea—”

“You did what?” Draco was beginning to sound as shrill as Parkinson had earlier. “Why would you tell her that?”

“Because you told me that.” At Draco’s blank look, Harry continued, “I asked you the other night, remember? And you threatened my bits, so I told her no party.” 

“You didn’t say _she_ was planning it, you asked how I’d feel if _you_ planned one for me!” Yes, Draco was definitely shrieking. “I’ve never had a surprise party thrown for me. I’d love one, especially if Pansy’s hosting. She does great parties.” 

Harry was beginning to get a headache. “But I _asked_ ,” he said. 

“Well I said what I was supposed to say, didn’t I?” Draco snapped. “If someone asks you if you want something done you’re supposed to say no and then when they go ahead and do it anyway, you can act surprised!”

Harry sighed. “So…you want me to go back to Parkinson and tell her you _do_ want a party?” 

“Are you mad? No!” Draco growled. “Now I’ll just look desperate.” 

“Bloody hell,” Harry groaned. “So what do I do now?” 

“You’ve done enough.” Draco rolled his eyes. “Just leave it alone. But for future reference I’d love a surprise party some day.” 

Harry frowned. “Just not one thrown by me?” He was beginning to feel hurt. 

Draco sighed. “No offense, but you would just reserve the Leaky or something. Not my cuppa.” 

Since that had been exactly what Harry had been thinking, he coughed. “Okay fine,” he conceded. “Maybe I’d need a bit of help with it. Maybe Hermione—” 

“Granger would be all right,” Draco said. “But if you ever involve Weasley in planning something for me I shall never speak to you again.” 

“Noted,” Harry said. He was pretty sure Ron felt the same, and since he liked his best friend and his boyfriend speaking to him, he resolved then and there to keep that promise. “Anyway,” he said, sidling closer. “I’m sorry I ruined your potential surprise party.” 

“Are you?” Draco sniffed. “Just how sorry are you?” 

“Sorry enough to break out the restraints and the paddles tonight and let you have your way with me,” Harry murmured. 

A flush bloomed across Draco’s cheeks. “You _do_ sound repentant,” he said. He grasped Harry hand. “What are we waiting for?” 

“Erm, what about supper?” Harry asked as Draco dragged him out of the living room. 

“Later,” Draco purred, and it was much later indeed. 

The next day, arse deliciously sore, Harry sat in his office, pondering how to get Parkinson to still plan a party for Draco. Draco had made him swear under pain of dismemberment not to say anything to her. ‘I won’t look desperate,’ he’d said as they’d cuddled together after a vigorous bout of sex. 

“Hey, mate.” Ron, standing at the door, frowned. “Bloody hell, what’s wrong? Who drowned your Kneazle?”

Harry sighed. “I messed up.” He drew breath to continue, but Ron held up a hand. 

“This has all the makings of a long story,” he said. “Why don’t we go out to lunch so you can tell me all about it?” 

Nodding, Harry grabbed his robes. “Yeah, all right.” 

Once they were seated at a local pub and their food had been delivered, Harry filled Ron in on what was going on. By the end of the story, Ron was shaking his head. “Slytherins. So what are you going to do now?” 

“No idea.” Suddenly not hungry, Harry pushed his plate of chips over to Ron who, with a grin, set about demolishing them. “If I say anything to Parkinson, word is sure to get back to Draco, plus, I promised.” 

“I could talk to Parkinson if you like,” Ron offered. 

Harry blinked. “You could? You’d do that?” 

“Sure. Why not?” 

Harry raised an eyebrow. “What are you not telling me?” 

Ron shrugged. “What? She has great tits. I’m happy to talk to her.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. While he was grateful that Ron and Hermione had gone their separate ways since everyone was the happier for it, it meant Ron was always on the prowl. “You’ll have to be subtle. You can’t just come out and say that Draco wants a surprise party.” 

“I can be subtle.” Ron stuffed the last chip in his mouth. “You can trust me.” 

Harry had his misgivings, but what choice did he have? “Okay, but if they find my dead and dismembered body in a ditch just remember it was all your fault.” 

Ron just laughed. “Trust me.” 

Over the following few days Harry didn’t hear a word, which he took as a good sign. On occasion he did spot Ron chatting up Parkinson, but since Parkinson hadn’t invited herself into his office to crow over the fact that Draco did want a party, he figured Ron had managed some modicum of subtlety. 

The day of Draco’s birthday dawned bright and clear. Figuring that since he hadn’t been informed of any plans it was safe to make dinner reservations for him and Draco at Draco’s favourite French restaurant, he did, and they had a lovely, if early, dinner. 

The first inkling that something was up was a disturbance in the wards. Immediately on alert, Harry gestured for Draco to be quiet, drawing his wand as they approached the front door. 

“What is it?” Draco hissed, drawing his own wand. 

“Something’s not right.” Harry unlocked the door. “You ready?”

Draco nodded, face grim. 

They flung open the door and the whole house lit up. Gathered there were all of Harry’s and Draco’s friends combined. “Surprise!” they all shouted. 

“Bloody hell,” Harry muttered, holstering his wand as everyone gathered around Draco, clapping him on the back and wishing him happy birthday. “I could have hexed you all.” 

“Not all of us,” said Parkinson. “There are a lot more of us than you.” 

“I do my best against bad odds,” said Harry, tone mild. 

Parkinson evidently heard the steel underling to words, however, because she inclined her head in acknowledgement. “Right,” she cried. “Everyone into the main room. We have some celebrating to do!” 

As Draco was carried away by the crowd, he turned and looked at Harry, mouthing, “Thank you!” 

“So were you surprised?” Harry asked a couple of hours later after people finally stopped monopolizing Draco’s time. 

Draco smirked. “Were _you_?” 

“Couldn’t you tell?” Harry sighed. “I almost hexed your friends.” 

“And yours.” 

Harry grinned. “They can protect themselves.” 

“So can mine.” 

Harry hummed. “Think they can entertain themselves?” he murmured. 

Draco’s smirk turned wicked. “Why? What do you have in mind?” 

“I really want to drag you off into a corner for a snog.” 

The speed with which Draco grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him along was gratifying. Within moments they were in a hallway closet. “Now,” Draco whispered, pressing himself against Harry’s chest. “Where is this snog I was promised?” 

Their lips met, the kiss quickly escalating until they were straining against each other, panting. Fingers had just started reaching for buttons when the door flew open to reveal a gigging Parkinson, Ron all but hanging off her.

Four sets of eyes met in horror. “Right,” Parkinson said, turning around briskly. “Party’s over, everyone on your way. The birthday boy has some private celebrating to do.” 

It said a lot of Parkinson’s force of personality that within minutes the house was empty but for her and Ron. “Happy birthday, darling,” she said to Draco, pulling him into a hug. Then, eyeing Harry she smirked. “Now you can’t say I’ve never done you any favours, Potter.” 

Harry glanced at Ron, who was impatiently waiting by the door for her. “Neither can you,” he murmured, almost chuckling as her eyes widened. 

Inclining her head, she turned away. “Come along, Weasley,” she said. “We’ve things to do.” 

“And so do we,” said Draco as soon as the door closed. 

Harry grinned, reaching for him. “As it’s your birthday, it’s your choice. What would you like tonight?” 

Draco’s expression went serious. “Just you. That’s enough of a gift for me.” 

Touched, Harry led Draco to bed. Sometimes Draco really could surprise him.

~


End file.
